I’m three days past due and to say I’m not happy about it is a massive understatement. I’m so frustrated and exhausted, and I’m almost certain I’m impossible to deal with.
“Please,” I plead with my own physiology. “I can’t do this any longer, please just make it today.”
My doctor insists there’s nothin wrong, and that if it goes past another seven days she’ll induce labor. SEVEN MORE DAYS. She better be jokin. I try to walk around as much as my feet’ll let me, try eatin spicy foods and basically anythin she suggests.
I apologize to Loki all too often, he knows it’s not that I’m angry with him in any way, he knows that I’m just tired and constantly uncomfortable. I’ve taken to slippin outta bed at night once he’s asleep. I can’t sleep much anyway and I don’t wanna wake him.
Tonight as he holds me on the couch, me recoverin from cryin yet again, I can’t help but beg him to use magic or anythin he can think of to just help. “Tell me there’s somethin ya know, somethin that’ll get this started because I’m just so tired, Loki.”